


Freak

by IZZYCHAN13



Series: MaxBradley [11]
Category: A Goofy Movie (1995), An Extremely Goofy Movie, Disney - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Physical Abuse, Self-Reflection, Sexual Abuse, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IZZYCHAN13/pseuds/IZZYCHAN13
Summary: MaxBradley AU. Max Goof x Bradley Uppercrust. A scene that takes place before "Prison". This is a sober take at the type of relationship that they're involved in with a focus on Maximilian's side of the ordeal. Some deeper-than-usual self reflection takes place.. (Originally published on deviantART in June 2012 with a comic splash panel / visual)
Relationships: Max Goof/Bradley Uppercrust III
Series: MaxBradley [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1091511
Kudos: 3





	Freak

This was just typical of their relationship. If that’s what the deluded wanted to call it.

Possibly the biggest mistake of their lives, getting heavily involved in each other. The blazing heat and never ending hospitality of their rhythmic bodies made it so addictive—Dark, seductive. Thrusting them into a high never mimicked by a rough, competitive sport.

But the crash was usually nothing less than a sheer vertical drop.

… Max needed to find a better way to protest.

“Oh..” letting out a grievous sigh, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyelids. Typical. Another chilly night out without the guys knowing.

The rivals didn’t even get started, and the sophomore was more in the mood to sleep than fool around this time. He flopped onto the silken mattress, burying the side of his face into a pillow, the part that wasn’t… Grabbing onto the other pillow, the boy brought it in close as a plush toy; knees closer to his chest after removing his shoes. A pitiful fetal position.

Perhaps it was the lack of “experience”; Max felt like a fish out of water every time he stepped into the Gamma House. If it wasn’t for the promise of getting into another sweet infiltration with its leader, this revelation would prove to be lethal. As usual, the damned red lights within all four corners of the room cast everything in an ethereal glow, only adding to its sparkling web. This boy was just another fly awaiting the presence of its black widow.

Red and black; he was starting to find it to be his favorite color combination. It symbolized an endless cycle of passion, death and revenge. Some “Forbidden Love” that was nothing more than a carnal desire—a lust for battered flesh. He enjoyed it in some sick, twisted way, but at the same time he found himself scared out of his mind.

There was no better way to manipulate. No better way to be manipulated.

As before, now and always, Max’s heart ached for something beyond earthly pleasures. Something that could leave him satiated instead of always having to thirst for more—

_… What am I thinking?? That’s impossible._

Attempting to doze off, he saw yet another image of his beloved, perky and cute since the first day he ever laid eyes on her. Full of that vitality and that childish wonder of innocence—

Pure naivety.

Goof bit the side of his tongue halfway through a growl. He hoped that some invisible Heaven could forgive his mental rant. Lids opened wide in the bloody glow—

And still visualizing. Usually he wouldn’t bother exercising his brain over memorizing about two thirds or three fourths of bullet points in the notes of each of his classes. There was no helping it in this case.

If there was anything more frightening than lying in his enemy’s bed, it was the unpredictability of the enemy himself. Transitions between the gentleman, child and dictator would either be smooth or sharp, depending on the occasion or whenever he pleased.

Tonight would be their month’s anniversary, and no moon to gaze at after all was said and done… Only the stars inside their blue orbs. And Bradley’s mysterious smile.

It was hard to grasp the notion that his friends still hadn’t a clue on what was going on. They hadn’t asked him anything as of late… There were times in broad daylight when the black canine would decide to attend class early, only to be caught in a vacant hallway with a tiny kiss. If there was no surveillance around, the jock would drag him to a shady area to continue their plight.

Other times, Max would wander off campus grounds (with the excuse of having to restock on school supplies on some edge of town) and catch sight of the senior snoozing under a tree. If he were to be in a good mood upon being awakened, they’d take a stroll even farther away—close to the cornfields. Their college age conversations would become saner with each step; the more at ease Mr. Uppercrust would be. The idea of holding hands didn’t exactly crop up; he would be having the mentality of an 11 or 12 year old by then, when a search for intimacy was more or less hindered. A problem with these long walks was the content of their conversations, superficial at best. Sure, they’d be on sports (ESPN in particular), music, art, video games, the theatre (an interest to the Drama King), movies and cartoons (something about Walt Disney)—even food, theme parks and roller coasters, and… flowers. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether or not the “athlete” was once labeled a “sissy” by an insensitive crowd in light of this.

But to really excavate the inner workings of their past lives was out of the question—any attempts to do so were either completely ignored, or would have an effect of placing one or the other on the defensive. A quick fix for the young man would be to light up the rolled green and lie in a bed of long grass; the boy close next to him, softly brushing his lips on a blushing cheek.

The dogs would look to the cotton azure skies when Mary Juana unearthed a library of anecdotes; sometimes Shakespeare, Hugo, Edgar Allen Poe, William Blake, Sylvia Plath—other authors and poets the Goof hadn’t even heard of!

Everything seemed almost right when a slight breeze refreshed their memories of happier times. They wouldn’t say anything at this point; the boy would allow ten minutes for his companion to rest. If the sky turned lavender, it was then high time to end their escapade and trudge back to their home teams.

Parting further away with each step, to avoid being seen together by a prospective student capable of rumor and sabotage…

It wasn’t every day this would happen; it wasn’t every night they would “hang out”. As he was warned, from the very beginning of their affair, Max knew he was not the only one Bradley entertained. If anything, he was just another on a platter of delights. Once or twice Brad tried to coax the “Goof Boy” into a group of whores—supposedly it was the best way to gain a sense of manhood in a chaotic world… He always told himself not to get jealous, much less give those dreaded words air:

“I love you.”

“Brad” hated that… Back into red silk.

“Oh, poor Maxie.” went a voice inside his head; the guest broke into a cold sweat—“Go away” whispering, pressing the cushion even closer to his chest.

“But I don’t want to, ever.” Fingers ran through raven hair in a delirium.

He wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming or wide awake—Goof Boy lunged to the edge of the mattress to flee from the invisible weight. Its hand grabbed a hold of his leg—“please go away!” falling off the edge trying to find the source of that voice, backing away until he hit the dresser.

Funny, that “ghost’s” presence felt strongest within the prison’s walls—A clatter and silence—he took a breath too soon—“Maximilian,” yanking the collar; the boy whirled around to see his own reflection, touching hands to face, pale… normal.

That is until the Other laughed again. The last time they’ve had a conversation was in a private meditation; that time he was better prepared. “Who are you? _What_ are you??”

Red eyes were set aflame in amusement; the gloved hand jutted out of the mirror to pull in his host until their foreheads touched, “Maxie, why are you ignoring me? I’ve tried to reach you and you’re always busy with that slut of yours. Last time you had the audacity to say ‘leave me alone—let me enjoy this’?? You _enjoy_ this?”

The boy gulped a bit of phlegm down, “Yeah—what’s it to you?”

The reflection rolled its eyes in disbelief, “The Captain of Team 99 having unbridled sex with the King of the Gammas—” scoffing in between words, “what is _that_ I mean, _come on!_ ”

Breathing irregularly, Max wrenched himself away, coming back with a hard fist—

“Ah ah ah, minion!” wagging a finger, “You’ll break his precious expensive looking glass!”

The fleshed version twitched an eye and calmed down, or at least tried to, “What do you want from me?!” _Tell me,_ “Every time!—slamming unstable hands on wood—“You just haunt me following me everywhere I go! I’m better off _choking_ in a large crowd of idiots ‘cause then I know their noise will drown _you_ out!

“But honey

“Don’t ‘honey’ me—don’t ‘dear’ me or ‘kid’ _me!_ ” Ruby shimmered in the pane,

“At least _I_ don’t _hit you_ , like he does.” An odd smile of triumph.

“.. Shut up.” Turning away before biting a lip. There was a sudden thud through the wall from down the residential hall. A tiny gasp… “Look at me, Maximilian.”

He obeyed; an almost caring hand on his shoulder, “You’re such a sorry sob!”

Not a bit of sympathy in His strangely elated voice—“He’s coming, Other Me.”

“Ha ha ha!”

“You need to leave,” quietly as possible, voice breaking, “ _Now_.”

“Aw, Maxie…” Putting out a bit of a pout before downcast eyes, faking pity before the corner of his mouth crept upward, “But we’ve only just begun.”

The wooden slab behind them creaked open; a figure leaned on its side. Hair disheveled—

“Who’re ya talkin’ to, kid??”

“Oh, Bradley!” hitting his elbow before resuming a casual leaning back against the dresser—“Hey!” spastic waving far from needed, “No one, buddy! Just to,” slight pause while his ‘buddy’ lowered a thick brow in suspicion, “myself.”

The whole width of the bed was between them… This boy just noticed the inside of the arm carrying a bag of hidden contents; pinpricked a couple times within the vein. The arm’s body swayed for the fifth time as its accusing finger raised itself to eye level, “ _Freak_.”

_We both are._

“Here’s what I said I’d get you. I thought you would appreciate it.” Walking around the large mattress to reach his guest, “You deserve it, don’t you—a dopamine rush—“ _Don’t you?!_ ” Max was again too lethargic to be startled; he let his half opened eyes inspect the carpet as the 20-minute old imprint of Bradley’s hand on the right side of his face shone under the dim light.

It certainly reminded the jock where he was, “Hey, Max—

Mighty restless he was, pulling his hair back a number of times before raising a trembling hand to the kid’s shoulder, “It’s okay—I’m okay, Max!”

_No… You’re not._

This ‘freshman’s’ skin tingled as his heart beat fiercely, a stinging sensation in his sockets.

He hated doing this. _You need to learn to get a grip on yourself if this is what you really want, dear!_ He despised the Voice in his head even more.

“Maximilian.” Cradling his head, bringing it forward as gently as possible, stroking a reddening face, “Forgive me; I didn’t mean it. You know I never mean it.” Bradley wiped away a single tear before a stream followed—

“But you--!” Turning his face away like some stubborn child as the senior tried to keep it in place. It was unbearable to even speak one ill word of his misconduct, “no.”

“Kid, look at me—Please look at me—I’m trying to apologize, kid—!” Clawed fingers dug into the boy’s cheeks to finally convince him—

“ _Look at me when I’m talking to you!!_ ” Max cowered at this, obeying his command—“I’m not your father, Max! Stop making me _act_ like one!”

_This isn’t how my father treats me!_

“You’re scaring me, Bradley!”

. . . . .

He wanted out, out of the strong arms that wrapped around his shoulders.

“We’ll be all right.” Overhearing a clink of glass within the bag, “Just relax, okay? I got us something to drink, too.” Kissing a throbbing temple beading with sweat, “Everything’s going to be fine, my dear Maximilian.”

… Why did he have to be so warm?

Surely, this would be an encounter to remember... There would be nothing else to look forward to but the stars in their eyes this early October night.

As usual, the Other Half treated himself to a front row seat for the upcoming attraction.

_Ah ha ha! Which one is going to make up the best excuse this time?_

_Does it really matter?? The two of you are hopelessly lost anyway...!_


End file.
